


Of Kaiju Blue and Red Hair

by curiumKingyo



Category: Pacific Rim (2013), Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: M/M, based on fanart, buenakai!Kylo, obligatory PacRim AU, plotting the end of the world, politician!Hux
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-24
Updated: 2016-03-01
Packaged: 2018-05-22 23:22:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6097321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/curiumKingyo/pseuds/curiumKingyo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hux is on a quest to build the Wall of Life and end the Jaeger program once and for all and the best place to find help is among the crazy, brainwashed BuenaKai.<br/>If he gets to find a partner to plot the end of the world with among the kaiju worshippers, it is only a bonus.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Based on [this amazing art](http://leadlatte.tumblr.com/post/138795287089/obligatory-pacific-rim-au-hux-as-a-slimy) by leadlatte. Go follow his tumblr because it is A++
> 
> UPD8:  
> leadlatte is trying to kill me so he did [ new incredible art](http://leadlatte.tumblr.com/post/140049149794/more-of-that-kylux-pacrim-au-i-cant-shut-up) based on this fic's first chapter :D

Usually Hux doesn't smoke in closed spaces but he has no qualms about breaking this little personal rule here. The cigarette shrouds his face in spicy smoke, keeping the horrible ammonia and rotten flesh stink away from his nostrils. He takes a long drag, the glowing amber making his features sharper. As he blows the smoke, a golden smile opens on the other man's face. 

"And what are you implying, Mr. Hux?" 

"Not a thing, Mr. Chau." Hux replies politely, cigarette drawing arcs of smoke in the stale air around him. "I have done my research though and in a number of occasions your _team_ 's shown to a kaiju attack even before the PPDC. It just seem uncanny how accurately you can predict their arrival." 

"They are huge monsters, anyone with eyes can see their arrival." Hannibal Chau grins, folding his big hands over the stained surface of his table. 

"That's true, but they are surprisingly difficult to track too and we both know so. They come either crawling over the ocean floor and land on random places, or they somehow just show up so close to our coast the first victims don't even know what hit them. And regardless of the setting, your people are always there." Hux holds Chau's stare for a while before leaning forward to tap the ashes from his cigarette into a previous burnt mark on the bone slum overlord's desk. "I'm not here to made idle questions, Mr. Chau. I am here to negotiate an alliance that will certainly benefit us both." 

Hannibal Chau sits back on his red velvet chair. He looks Hux from head to toe, takes in his perfectly combed red hair and overly polished leather shoes. Hux is not a man to waste his time, that much is clear in the way he seems about to vibrate out of his skin if Chau keeps holding him any longer. "What is your plan?" 

Hux exhales deeply. "I believe it is good for your line of work that the kaiju are defeated by the Jaeger. You may be able to locate and harvest them but I'm fairly sure you don't have the power to kill them yourself." Chau nods minutely. "The Jaeger program is underfunded and about to be completely shut down, but some people are still annoyingly clinging to it. It is for my benefit that the kaiju defeat as many Jaeger as possible, so I can finally end this miserable attempt at being heroes." 

"It seems like your plan is in contradiction with your earlier words, Mr. Hux." Chau chastises him, shaking a thick finger in front of the red haired man. "It is essential for me that the Jaeger win, and you seem set on making them lose." 

"Despite being fragilized, the Jaeger program is still strong; it would take numerous attacks to completely drain it from its resources and shut it down for good." Hux says, undeterred. "Working together, you could make the most profit from these attacks until my plan finally draws to a conclusion. Once I succeed and the Finalizer Wall is finally built I will certainly be very thoughtful of those who helped me, Mr. Chau."  

Hux draws another drag of his cigarette, eyes burning orange in the middle of cinnamon and clove smoke. He sits back onto his chair, the portrayal of royalty. 

"I get it, Mr. Hux. You are a tough dealer but at this point there is no reason to deny your request."  

"It clearly serves us both in equal measures. I'm a fair man, Mr. Chau, I wouldn't come to you with anything but a fair proposition." He smiles like a predator and Chau's answering smile is just as dangerous as Hux's own. "It took me quite a while to locate you, Mr. Chau. Now what I must know is, how come you're as good at finding things as your are at hiding?" 

Chau barks a laugh. "Finally the million dollar question." He takes a heavy, gilded pen from the inner pocket on his suit and begins to write on a piece of thick white paper. "I believe you are familiar with the BuenaKai." 

"If by _familiar_ you mean _aware_ _of their existence_ than yes, you are correct." Hux raises an eyebrow, suspicious. Chau grins. 

"Then your research has not been as thorough as you like to think." He finishes writing and opens the top drawer on his desk, taking a small stamp from within. "If you want to find and understand the kaiju, you should have gone to the one who talks to them." He stamps the paper with a loud thud and hands it to Hux. 

"Your stamp is not working." Hux points out and once again Chau laughs, his golden teeth catching the uneven light on its grooves. 

"Stop thinking like a refined bureaucrat if you want to see your plan come through." Chau says and there is a genuine advice on his voice. Hux takes note. 

"I appreciate your support, Mr. Chau." Hux carefully puts the paper in his wallet and stands up. Chau watches as he tugs on his suit, straightening any creases, and puts the cigarette off on the sole of his shiny shoes. 

Chau doesn't stand when he leaves, the big man already occupied with another matters. Hux makes his way out of the red mansion by himself. On every door a heavily armed thug stares dangerously at him but none move as he walks by. 

The wet air outside is a pleasant change after spending so long into the kaiju gut stink of Chau's lair. He walks among the suspicious inhabitants of the bone slum until he gets to a more civilized area and finally gets a cab. 

The driver seems shocked when he says his intended destination. 

The BuenaKai temple is a huge repurposed warehouse on one of the best preserved areas near the harbor. Each step on the front stair is lined with iridescent tiles, positioned to resemble the glowing spine of some kaiju. The tiles cross the street and end in a small portico just a few steps away from the water line. The door is painted a deep blood red, standing in morbid contrast to the charcoal grey of the walls. 

Hanging on each side of the door there are two roof to floor banners covered in inscriptions Hux doesn't even pretend to understand. High on the walls, the glass of the windows have been replaced by colorful murals depicting the fearful subject of the BuenaKai faith. 

Hux takes the front steps two at a time, in his usual overly confident pace. There is a person standing by the door, dark grey unfitting clothes and black ritualistic makeup on their face. "Where do you come from?" They ask. 

"My name is-" 

"I'm sorry." The person interrupts him shaking their head solemnly. "This is not your path, you can't continue." 

Hux grits his teeth. "Excuse me, I don't think you understand. I must enter." 

"Only those who walk the path can go in now." They explain politely. "If you desire to walk into the glorious blue flames you have to wait for the next sermon. The hatchlings must be accompanied since the beginning." 

"I'm not a hatchling, I am Brendol Hux head of the Finalizer program." He waits for recognition but many seconds go by without any kind of reaction on the door keeper's face. He sighs. "I was sent by Hannibal Chau." 

"Do you have an invitation?" They inquiry mildly. Grunting, Hux takes his wallet from his suit pocket and shows the paper signed by Chau. The person studies it for a few seconds before bowing their head slightly. "I'll take you to the Kylo Ren." 

Drywalls cut the building into smaller spaces and Hux is mildly surprised to see that the front lobby looks exactly like a church. More banners with that unknown language hang from the ceiling, the biggest one depicting a messy electric blue storm hangs behind the altar. Rows of dark wood benches line the space, each one covered in embroidered quilts depicting the same glyphs and intricate blue patterns. Hux estimates the place is big enough to hold about 200 people at once. 

His guide takes him through makeshift drywall corridors. They don't meet anyone else on the way but a faint humming background noise alerts Hux to the presence of others. At last they reach the back door, also red and surrounded by iridescent tiles. There is no doorknob that Hux can distinguish. 

"Show your invitation, please." The person asks, touching one of the tiles. A small code reader slides from behind one of the tiles and Hux shows it the paper. A beam of  ultraviolet light shines upon it revealing the effigy of a kaiju. The door slides open. "The Kylo Ren will receive you." 

They motion for Hux to enter the room and so he does. The door leads to a long corridor of actual concrete, walls covered in a heavily textured red paint. It feels like walking into a giant's artery. His shoes click against the blue and green tiles on the floor. 

When he is in the middle of the corridor he notices the person is not following him, quite the opposite, he is alone and the door's been closed. A passing sense of dread takes him for a second. _I should have warned Phasma of my whereabouts_ he thinks. 

Finally he reaches the door at the other end. This one is wooden, a very detailed image of Trespasser, the first kaiju, carved onto it. There is a scan besides the door, Hux swipes his card under it and the lock clicks open. 

The room isn't very big despite the ceiling being as high as the warehouse's. The floor is covered in polished wood blocks laid together in a scale-like pattern. The craftsmanship is impressive. Framed pictures of kaiju attacks line the walls, sharing space with vividly detailed paintings of the same swirling blue storm Hux'd seen behind the altar. 

There are no windows on the room and only a few of the numerous lights are on, shrouding the room in a dusk shade. Most of the lights are focused on an enormous claw hanging from the ceiling, the luminosity revealing a net of silver chains and blue pendants holding the heavy claw up. The massive form cast a diffuse shadow over the unidentified heap of black cloth beneath it. 

It takes a few moments for Hux to get used to the low light but when he does he realizes the thing laying under the suspended claw is actually a person. Clad in numerous layers of black fabric, the person's head is covered by a black helmet connected to the claw by silver cords. The person is humming low in their throat. 

Hux steps fully into the room, the door silently sliding close behind him. He clears his throat but the person doesn't react. "Excuse me, I'm here to talk to Kyle Ren." Hux announces. 

More silence, the humming noise fading to nothing. The person rises a hand and disconnects the cords linking the helmet to the claw. The movement is abrupt but still full of a feral grace. The same can be said about the way the person rolls from under the claw and crawls on hands and knees to the center of the room. 

Hux is frozen in place. The person stops and sits in front of him, their very long legs crossed in an odd angle. "Kylo." The helmet filters his voice, makes it sound mechanical and inhuman. 

"What?" 

The man makes a choked sound, like an aborted laugh. "You are a stupid non believer but somehow managed to get here. I'm surprised." Even seated the person looks tall, gangly limbs folding into a strange sitting position. Hux feels bile rising to his throat, the clear feeling that dealing with this person will be a personal hell. "But you are here nonetheless so please say it correctly. It is Kylo. Kylo Ren." 

"Kylo Ren." Hux repeats, being extra careful and even a bit petty on his pronunciation. "I am Brendol Hux, and I'm here to make a deal with you." 

Hux can't see Kylo Ren's face but he feels the man rising an eyebrow at him, questioningly. "What do you have that could possibly interest me and those above me?" 

"The end of the Jaeger program."


	2. Chapter 2

Kylo Ren doesn't like to talk to people. He's never liked it, since his childhood - maybe that's why it is so easy for him to talk to the frightening Precursors, masters and creators of the Kaiju. Their voices sound much softer in his mind than a human's to his ears. He studies the man in front of him. Expensive and overly polished leather shoes, charcoal grey suit ironed to perfect angles and creases. There is an astute glint on his light green eyes and the tilt of his fair eyebrow suggests impatience.

This is a man Kylo Ren could talk to.

"You have big promises for a short man," the BuenaKai says, teasingly.

Hux feels the back of his throat burn but if there is something his years as a lobbyist taught him it is to swallow his pride. "Maybe its just a matter of point of view," he replies dryly.

Once again a short burst of laughter rings through the voice modulator of Kylo Ren's helmet. "Maybe," he concedes. "Maybe you should sit too so we can share this vision."

Hux refuses to show his annoyance. Kylo Ren is sitting like a broken doll, limbs long and twisted oddly. Hux is not used to sitting on the bare floor but he manages to look a lot more composed when doing so. His posture stiff, shoulder squared showing that he is not this much shorter than the black clad man.

"I want your assistance," the redhead says once they are both sitting and staring at the other. He carefully choses his words, avoiding expressions such as _need_ and _help_. "I'm currently lobbying the construction of a new wall, the Finalizer Wall, and I believe my project may benefit us both."

Kylo Ren sighs, this man was so promising...

"You're a Wall of Life follower."

"The Finalizer Wall is much more than the Wall of Life was conceived to be," there is a new passion on his voice as he speaks, still subtle but Kylo Ren can definitely hear it. "In its current state the Wall of Life is barely a palliative, but the Finalizer Wall will stand forever."

"And why do you need my assistance to build a wall?" Kylo Ren asks, his modulated voice so hard for Hux to interpret.

"Our world is currently split into two very antagonistic trends," Hux explains, his hands moving with grace as he mimics two halves of a broken circle. "Those who believe in walls, and those who believe in robots. Unfortunately, there isn't space and specially there isn't money for both parties to strive."

He pauses, lets his words sink. Underneath the helmet Kylo Ren's eyebrow is up in pleasant surprise. This man may know nothing of the big plans of the universe, of the Truth of the Precursors, of the Age of the Kaiju; but he is no ignorant as to the way the world turns.

"While this intern conflict lasts, I'll never get to see my plans come true and since years of meetings and negotiations haven't given me any results I decided to look for new ways to get it done."

The short, but passionate, speech brings a pink hue to the man's pale face and makes his eyes look glassy. The kind of telltale sign of insanity Kylo Ren appreciates on those around him. He looks at the humongous claw at the middle of the room, feeling its vibrations on his teeth and eardrums.

"So you want me to break your antagonist's toys."

"That's a way of phrasing it, yes," Hux agrees, the blush fading from his hollow cheeks. "The Jaeger program is a travesty, it brings unrealistic hope to people while sucking resources that should be mine," the disgust in his voice when talking about the Jaeger rivals that of some of the most zealous of Kylo Ren's devotees.

"And what do you expect me to do, exactly?"

"Even when the Jaeger defeat a Kaiju they suffer extreme damage, sometimes losing more than one unit before taking the Kaiju down," Hux explains and once again his pale hands keep moving, interpreting his words. "But since the attacks are so scarce and far in between they have time to reassemble and rebuild their robots and resources every time. I believe a well coordinated attack, focusing on their Shatter Domes and not on civilian areas will be an efficient way of cutting them down."

"You've been planning this for a long while, haven't you?"

Hux is clearly taken aback by the question. He wets his lips in an unconscious nervous gesture. Kylo Ren smiles under his mask.

"This project is an inheritance," Hux says carefully. "My father commissioned the design and started battling for funds many years ago and he could have completed it if it weren't for General Organa and her plans for reviving the Jaeger program." Kylo Ren's posture falters for a split second.

"I see, this is a father thing," the BuenaKai muses, and something about the way he says _father_ falls wrongly in Hux's ears.

"It was his project but will be my accomplishment," Hux says with finality. Kylo Ren grins bitterly, the other man's words hitting close to home.

"Let's pretend I'm going to help you. Let's imagine all the PPDC toys are broken and their little 'Domes are burning and your nice wall is up," Kylo Ren says gesturing widely with his gloved hands. "What do I get from this?"

"Aside from not having to deal with the Jaeger anymore?"

"Yes."

Hux stares into the black screen over Kylo Ren's eyes for a long while. "What do you want?" Hux asks at last. "What do your masters want?"

The politician can't see the wide smile on Kylo Ren's face. "Ultimate destruction of the human kind is the will of the Gods," he replies almost sweetly.

"The Finalizer Wall has been designed to protect specific areas and keep specific populations safe," Hux explains. "Your Gods would be free to roam around it and reap those who are not under our protection."

Kylo Ren doesn't miss the clever insertion of the word _our_ on Hux's line. This is definitely a man worth talking to. "The people will need guidance," he adds, conspiratorially.

"Definitely," Hux agrees, amicably. "And with this guidance we can insure their reign will last forever. They'd never run out of followers and worshippers or victims and prey."

"The Age of the Kaiju..." Kylo Ren murmurs in awe. "You do bring a deal worth telling my masters."

"I'm glad to have you by my side," Hux says with an affected smile.

Kylo Ren shakes his head lightly. "I'm but a pawn on the Precursors' game; an enlightened one but a mere piece nonetheless," the masked man says darkly. "If you want the Kaiju to attack you must convince my masters the same way you convinced me."

"What?" Hux asks before he can control himself. This wasn't part of his plans, he was hoping to figure it all out with Kylo Ren and not with gigantic alien monsters.

Kylo Ren laughs, an echoing sound that's not human at all. "I have absolutely no power over the Kaiju," he says lightly. "That's why I'm the Kylo Ren."

"Isn't it your name?"

Kylo Ren laughs so hard he falls on his side, arms wrapped around his middle. Hux fights the urge to stand up and kick the man on the kidneys. Eventually Kylo Ren composes himself back.

"Did you do any research before coming to me?" Hux reluctantly spits a no, much to Kylo Ren's amusement. "Kylo Ren is not my name, it is my title. It means 'the one who speaks'. I got it because I can speak to the Precursors without bleeding to death."

"Charming," Hux murmurs with distaste but it just garners another small laugh from the other man. "Do you have a name too or are you a feral Kaiju child?"

Silence stretches in the half lit room. "My name is Ben Solo. Ben Organa Solo."

Hux feels like the floor has been shifted without his consent. Stories of General Organa and Lieutenant Solo's wayward son were the juiciest gossip ten years before or so. Never in a million years would he imagine this is how he'd find the man. He can't help but to find their meeting strangely poetic.

"It will be a pleasure working with you Ben Organa Solo, Kylo Ren of the Kaiju," Hux extends his hand.

"It certainly will, Brendol Hux, who will beat his dead father in fulfilling his dreams," Kylo Ren shakes Hux's hand firmly, his smile hidden but reciprocated.


	3. Chapter 3

Despite sitting in such an awkward position Kylo Ren stands up quite graciously. The same can't be said about Hux, whose knees refuse to work properly and whose tailbone twinges painfully as he finally stands. His suit is creased and there are scratches on his shiny shoes. 

"How am I supposed to talk to your Masters?" Hux asks, readjusting his suit carefully. 

"You're not going to talk to them yet, don't worry," Kylo Ren replies. "The only way to talk to them is by drifting." 

"Drifting?" Hux echoes, eyebrow shooting up in disbelief. 

Kylo Ren nods silently as he crosses the room. When he reaches the furthest wall Hux notices it it actually a built in closet. One of the doors slides open and the BuenaKai retrieves a helmet, not too different from his own, from inside it. Then he pulls a console, a cathode monitor and a number of coiled cords. 

"Drifting with the Precursors is very dangerous," Kylo Ren informs turning the console and monitor on and starting to unravel the cords. "The neural handshake can destroy your sense of self and maintaining the bridge up is so stressful a minor mistake or hesitation can quite literally burn your brain." 

Hux stares at him with a growing sense of dread. This man seems to be enjoying himself with gruesome descriptions of how deadly this endeavor can be, certainly this speaks volumes about his sanity. And the fact that he is still here willing to continue this certainly speaks a lot about Hux's own. Prompted by the redhead's silence the other man speaks again. 

"Don't be discouraged," Kylo Ren says almost tenderly. "If you handle the experience a whole new universe unveils before your eyes. All you think you know: stars, planets, moons and suns, even time itself, it all changes. You become someone entirely new," there is a dreamy quality to his voice as he stops his fiddling with the old computer to look back at Hux. "It's like being reborn." 

It's hard to tell whether is the voice or the words but Hux finds himself hooked to Kylo Ren's speech. He takes an unconscious step forward. His knowledge of the drifting technology doesn't go far beyond what the general public knows. His status on the First Order, an influential if somewhat new political party, granted him access to a few classified documents but nothing particularly helpful right now. 

He knows, however, that Drift Compatibility is key to the whole process and the notion that the man casually operating a freaking cathode monitor in front of him is drift compatible with otherworldly overlords is baffling to say the least. 

"You have drifted with them," Hux finally speaks. "How are you alive? Among Jaeger pilots it's easy to find people with severe brain damage because of incompatibility or traumatic neural bridge connections and you share your mind with those creatures almost inconsequentially." 

Kylo Ren finishes connecting his oddly outmoded computer to both his own helmet as well as the one he's just retrieved from the closet. He stares at the one in his hands for a while, either contemplating Hux's question or already lost on his own thoughts. "If I had to take a guess, I'd say it's genetics." 

"Beg your pardon?" 

"Genetics," he echoes. "I believe that's the reason I can drift with them so easily." 

"And why would that be so?" 

"Because my grandfather was their herald before me and I think the alterations his brain suffered were passed on through his bloodline." 

"So your grandfather was Kylo Ren before you," Hux sounds surprised considering the Organa-Solo family's position. 

"No, he was much greater than me," the black clad man replies with awe in his voice. "He was Darth Vader, the one who commands." 

"Your grandfather could control them?" Hux's expression is a mix of suspicion and amazement. 

"He could," Kylo Ren affirms once again. "He went so deep inside the hivemind he could feel each Kaiju individually. Once they were on Earth he could enter their minds and command them," a silent moment of bated breaths. "It was glorious." 

"And what happened to him?" Hux asks before he can close his mouth. 

Kylo Ren's posture shifts visibly, assuming a threatening air, gloved hands gripping the spare helmet tightly. "He was betrayed and killed," he says and his modulated voice is warped with hatred. Hux senses there is more to this story than that but he reigns himself before questioning further. 

Hux doesn't know anything about Darth Vader, which isn't surprising since he'd never spared a second thought to the whole BuenaKai deal before. Once again coming here with so little previous knowledge has proven to be an ill advised move. He wonders if the Order could supply him any reports or information on the topic. 

"But now you follow his footsteps," he says cautiously, trying to bring the mood back to a more even level. 

"And one day I'll surpass him," Kylo Ren adds, his shoulders once again dropping to a more relaxed stance. 

A heavy silence blankets the room. Fortunately for Hux it doesn't last long. A high pitched sound comes from the console hidden inside the wall and prompts Kylo Ren into action once again. 

"It's ready," he says offering Hux the second helmet. "To protect you from the hivemind and give you a better chance at staying alive when drifting with my masters I'll be your drift partner." 

"Come again," Hux inquires taking the helmet and studying it suspiciously. 

That short mechanical laughter rings again. "I don't care how ruthless you are while dealing with the other little men on the congress and UN conventions," Kylo Ren tells with undisguised petulance. "But I can assure you you're not ready to drift with the Precursors by yourself. You know why a Jaeger needs two pilots, don't you?" 

"To share the neural load and lessen the effects of riding a giant robot with their minds," the answer is a little bitter, Kylo Ren's disregard for Hux's abilities getting on the shorter man's nerves. 

"Now try and imagine the neural load of connecting with a millenia old hivemind comprised of hundreds of Precursors and thousands of Kaiju," Kylo Ren says, notably dramatic. 

"You do it by yourself." 

"I am the Kylo Ren. Who are you?" 

Hux swallows dryly, the BuenaKai's words cutting deeper than he cares to admit. He lowers his gaze and stares at the empty eye windows on the helmet in his hands. With an undignified huff he shoves the helmet over his head. "Lets do this," he mutters, surprised to hear his voice both inside the closed mask and through the voice modulator as well. 

The helmet was not designed to offer comfort and the hasty way Hux had pushed it onto his head doesn't make things any better. His ears are twisted and the open screen is too close to his eyes, to the point his eyelashes brush the dark glass. The heat inside is stifling and every filtered noise from the outside sounds distant and makes him disoriented. 

Kylo Ren is looking down at him, his head slightly tilted aside in consideration. If reading him was hard before now it is borderline impossible with Hux's own senses obscured by the helmet. He considers whether Kylo Ren's mask is any comfier than his or if the man endures this level of discomfort on a daily basis. If the last one proves right it would certainly explain his insufferable demeanor. 

"Have you ever drifted?" 

For some unfathomable reason Kylo Ren's voice sounds a lot clearer and smoother now. Maybe the noise filters on Hux's helmet counterpoints the modulator on Kylo Ren's rendering his voice much more human like than before. 

"No," Hux says quickly. "Of course not, why would I?" 

Kylo Ren shrugs and turns back to the console where types a few commands. Looking over his shoulder he adds, clearly amused, "I hope you're ready for it." 

He hits a final key on the console and Hux's world dissolves. 

Hux is prone to headaches but not all the migraines he's ever suffered added up and cranked up to ten could rival this feeling. His head hurts not just in a physical way, his very thoughts suddenly acting like angry snakes biting and hissing and slithering around his skull painfully. And those were just his thoughts. 

A significant part of his brain seems full of something that does not belong to him. Not belong on him. His perception is split between two sets of senses and he feels both too big and painfully small. His body feels wrong, as if his limbs had the wrong size and odd joints he can't control well. He is certain his eyes are closed but he can still see. 

He sees a collapsing form in a grey suit and hands twisting into painful angles. He feels his fingers bending into unnatural positions and a part of him realizes those wrapped hands belong to him. When he opens his eyes he sees a black shape sliding down the wall in front of him, head thrown back, helmet scrapping the grey patina. 

Hux feels iron on his tongue and ozone on his eyes, a piercing whistle echoing on his ears. Somehow he gathers enough strength to raise his hands and snatch the helmet off his head. It hits the ground with a loud noise, the cords twisting and snapping free of their plugs. 

For a moment all Hux sees is the red curtain of his own sweat drenched hair over the blackness of his surroundings. He fights for breath but every inhale floods his lungs with acrid blood, rendering him dizzy and sick. The slick warmth drips down his face and onto the floor and he smears it as he uses his hands to find balance on the rapidly moving world. 

The taste of bile fills his mouth and in that moment it's far from the most disgusting thing happening to him. His breath stutters and he heaves, the wet sound of the coffee and bagel he had eaten hours before hitting the floor breaking the silence. Once his stomach is empty he crumbles back, unsteady arms trying to keep him up. 

His vision isn't entirely back when the sound of another helmet skidding across the floor calls his attention. He rises bleary eyes and sees that Kylo Ren, despite his petulant words about drifting with the Kaiju masters, isn't in any better shape than him. 

The other man's skin is even paler than Hux's own fair complexion and right now he looks a sickening ashen color, an oily sweat sticking his wild black bangs to his forehead. Hux doesn't feel like passing any kind of judgement but he considers, however briefly, that Kylo Ren would be handsome were he not in such a pitiful state. 

The herald of the Kaiju has deep dark circles under his bloodshot eyes and a big, angular nose drenched in blood that dripped over his full, cracked lips. There are tiny dark spots on his face and Hux can't tell if they are little moles or specks of blood. But it is the look on his eyes that catch Hux's attention. 

Kylo Ren's eyes are chestnut brown and the ruptured blood vessels circling his irises highlight the red hue on them. Hux had never seen such expressive eyes. Even bloodied like that they look clear, a direct line to Kylo Ren's previously hidden emotions. And right now they show no small amount of intrigue, perhaps a touch of admiration. 

There is a twisted smirk on his lips as he takes his gloves off and wipe some of the blood off his lips with the back of his hand. "You look like shit," he says in a lighthearted voice. Without any of their helmets on Hux can finally hear his actual voice, and is surprised by how smooth and pleasant it is. 

"I assure you you don't look any better," he replies reaching into his pocket for something to wipe his face with. A crumpled Starbucks napkin shows up and he carefully straightens it over his knee and rip it in two pieces. One he uses to clean the blood congealing around his nostrils and over his lips, the other he stuffs his nose with to avoid bleeding again. 

Kylo Ren smiles at his remark. His teeth are bloodstained. 

"Man, I've never seen such a brutal neural handshake. We are probably the least Drift compatible people in the world." 

Hux doesn't know how to feel about it. He certainly wasn't expecting to be completely compatible with Kylo Ren but he was hoping to at least establish a bridge solid enough to grant him protection against the Precursors. As it is, having the other's mind melded with his is more of a hazard than a safeguard. Oddly enough even without the drift helmets he feels a connection between them, some unconscious threads lingering like ghost limbs on his mind. 

"What do we do now?" He questions at last. "It is clear to me that your plan of drifting together to protect me was a terrible idea. How am I going to talk to your masters?" 

Kylo Ren licks the blood from his lips with a pensive expression on his face. "I'll confer with them," he replies picking his helmet off the ground, "they are wise and will know how to proceed. If they approve your plan they will surely find a way to reach for you and discuss it properly." 

Those words sound like a promise as much as they sound like a threat. Hux swallows the lingering taste of blood and bile on his mouth. "When will you talk to them?" 

"Not now, that's for sure," Kylo Ren replies, cradling the helmet on his arms. "You turned my brain into mush, I need to rest before drifting again. If you're willing to take a suggestion I'd tell you to do the same." 

As if on cue Hux feels extremely tired, exhausted like he'd never felt before. The massive pain on his head has waned to a pulsing ache behind his eyes and it feels like there is sand coating his throat. He suddenly envisions himself soaking on his tub on his very clean, very un-BuenaKai-ish apartment and nothing could be more alluring. 

He stands up in wobbly legs and braces a hand against the wall for support. "When can I come back?" 

"I'll reach for you," Kylo Ren answers still sprawled on the floor. Hux nods weakly. 

Hux doesn't remember how he went back to the front door, the journey down the red corridor and the drywalls covered in Kaiju images completely erased from his memory. When he finally leaves the temple he is gratefully surprised to find Phasma waiting for him in a rented car. 

"How did you find me here?" He asks, sliding into the passenger's seat and slumping there with a groan. 

"I had Mitaka following you once you told me you were going to the Bone Slum," she tells him in her soft but professional voice. 

She turns the car on and starts the long journey back to Hux's apartment. Blessed silence reigns for a while but she eventually breaks it, looking at him from the corner of her eyes. 

"Did they hit you," she asks almost casually. He feels like laughing. 

"Being hit would certainly be a pleasant option to what really happened," he says bitterly. "And believe it or not something worse is probably going to happen in the future." 

"Would you like me to solve this situation?" She offers. 

"I appreciate the offer, but will politely refuse it," he says averting his eyes to the quickly passing skyline. "His madness must be contagious." 

"Sir?" 

"You know what, Phasma?" He prompts, eyelids growing heavy. "I'm actually looking forward to it." 


End file.
